


Get Me With Those Green Eyes, Baby

by penlex



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Morning After, but also really sweet, misuse of song lyrics, seriously it's terrible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 16:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1434382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penlex/pseuds/penlex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles wakes up alone, but that's okay because he has to go to school anyway. Right. It's totally fine.</p><p>
  <i>"What's your problem, Stilinski?" Jackson barked, right when Stiles blurted, "I feel like my life's soundtrack is made up of Taylor Swift hits."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Me With Those Green Eyes, Baby

Stiles was alone in his room when he woke up, which was... probably to be expected?

His phone's alarm was going off, because today was a school day and he had to get up. When he sat up (slower than usual, groggy) Stiles could feel each individual muscle move. It wasn't that he was  _sore_  per se, just... well used. Just like, you know. He hadn’t done that before.

Stiles kept his eyes closed to brush his teeth and peel his clothes off. Peel, literally, because they'd stuck to him last night after being put on over sweat and- other stuff.

Water over his head in the shower woke Stiles up more thoroughly and he finally opened his eyes in order to locate his shampoo. He'd upgraded to some more expensive stuff now that he actually had hair, and the 'cool musk' fragrance mixed in with the heavy steam and filled up the bathroom.

While he let his conditioner sink in, Stiles counted hickeys. One there, one there. Two right next to each other just to the left of his happy trail. He mused idly about how if he'd known that was going to happen he would have manscaped.

Stiles's styling gel didn't have an advertisable slogany scent; it just smelled like chemicals. Stiles used it sparingly so his head didn't. In the mirror Stiles's eyes were drawn to the hickeys he wasn't able to see without the help. Hands sticky with gel, Stiles poked at a particularly dark one in between his jugular and his collar bone. It was tender and made his body feel kind of uncomfortable, kind of like in junior high when he'd had to stay still for two whole minutes in health class because he was thinking too hard about how muscles worked and it was weirding him out.

Stiles brushed his teeth again because he forgot he'd already done that, and put on a collared shirt.

Breakfast was quiet. Dad wasn't home.

Stiles's forearms felt weak as he brought his spoon repetitively from his bowl to his mouth, and his thighs needed stretching. There was a minor twinge in the arch of his foot where he'd gotten a momentary cramp last night. Hadn't noticed at the time.

Stiles went to all of his classes like a good boy, but all he heard from teachers and students alike was the sounds adults made in Charlie Brown. He did gather that Scott and Allison must have had some kind of moment or something, because Scott looked pretty chipper and also didn't notice that Stiles was quiet.

They sat at their usual table - still unusual to Stiles - which had recently been joined by Ethan because he and Danny were a matched set now and they couldn't just kick Danny out since he was still Jackson's best friend and Jackson wanted to keep it that way. It wasn't too much of a problem because with Danny at the table they couldn't talk wolfy stuff anyway. Besides, it's not like Ethan wouldn't hear them if he was sitting somewhere else.

Stiles ended up sandwiched between Scott and Lydia, as usual, because Scott was a well-meaning jerk like that. Their side of the table started with that lovely trio and ended with Jackson and Boyd. The other side had Erica across from Boyd, then Hot Tan And Buff and Hot Tan And Buffer, Allison, and Isaac. This was the optimal arrangement because it kept the wolves mostly away from Ethan, and Erica and Boyd away from Allison. Plus Isaac was a little in love with Scott, so.

Around Stiles, the pack was fighting about something. Obviously. Could Ethan even be pack? Could a pack have two alphas in it? Could you be a member of two packs at the same time?

Maybe that was why Derek had left while Stiles was sleeping. Stiles wasn't a sheriff's son for nothing; he could connect the dots and know that the last time Derek got involved with someone who wasn't pack didn't go so well. And Stiles was in  _Scott's_  pack, not Derek's.

Then again, maybe he just left because there wasn't any reason for him to stick around.

"What's your problem, Stilinski?" Jackson barked, right when Stiles blurted, "I feel like my life's soundtrack is made up of Taylor Swift hits."

Lydia raised an elegant strawberry blonde eyebrow, half unimpressed but also, nowadays, half amused (something that would never cease to thrill Stiles even with his romantic designs for her mostly having dried up). 

"How's that?" she asked.

"Well, first it was," Stiles flailed in her direction, an indicative gesture, " _He's lacrosse captain and I'm on the bleachers._ " There were titters. His 'friends'  _tittered_  at his pain. But Lydia cocked her head curiously, narrowed her eyes - aah, so shrewd, he knew he liked her for a reason.

“And now?” she prompted, the set of her lips telling him he had no way out and it was his own fault for saying 'first'. Stiles slouched further into his collar, flicked what was supposedly a pea. Finally, he sighed and sang, " _I knew you were trouble when you walked in_ _.”_

“And now you’re lying on the cold, hard ground?” Erica teased, sharp smirk painted her usual bad bitch red. Scott was more serious, leaning in to Stiles’s personal space with an overly grave expression.

“Stiles,” he hissed, though why he bothered to lower his voice was a mystery. “You don’t have a crush on- one of _them_ ,” here he eyeballed Ethan aggressively; Ethan was unconcerned, “do you?”

“Depends on what you mean by ‘them’.” Alpha, yes; the enemy, no. “Also,” Stiles laughed, maybe a bit too loudly to be entirely natural or comfortable, “how you define ‘crush’.” He intended to leave it at that, really, but in the face of Scott’s puppy dog eyes Stiles was helpless. He’d kept so many secrets from his dad already he couldn’t bear to do the same to his best friend, so Stiles reached up and tugged his collar down. The silence around the table lost its casualness, the background noises of eating and shifting coming to an abrupt halt, and Stiles looked around at how everyone’s eyebrows were at least a good inch higher than they usually were at rest. He grimaced a little, and gestured reluctantly at himself.

“There are more,” he muttered, raised his own eyebrows significantly. “Elsewhere. You know.”

“ _Well_.” Jackson broke the awkward moment crudely, like the dick he was. He gathered up his tray to go dump and put away. “You had to cash it in _some_ time, Stilinski.”

“ _Why ya gotta be so mean_? ” Stiles intoned sardonically at the back of his perfect blond head.

.

They had a pack meeting at Derek's place after school, of course, which had been planned weeks ago, because life was eternally cruel and twisted. It mostly wasn't awkward due to the fact that no one besides Stiles and Derek knew there was anything there that one might need to feel awkward about, but while his packmates laughed and pushed each other and argued about what toppings to get on the pizzas Stiles stood quietly out of the way, unsure of his place unlike he had been in a long while.

Derek didn't look at Stiles at all, was his usual stoic self but with about three thousand times more distance. Or maybe it just felt like that to Stiles because he had an unreasonable expectation that they should be closer now. After all, sex was something intimate, right? It certainly felt intimate to Stiles while it was happening. The way Derek had kissed at Stiles's neck, breathed hotly across his collar bones, held his hands while he moaned quietly in Stiles's ear... That had definitely felt like they were close.

The more Stiles thought about how deep into his space, into his life and into himself, that Stiles had let Derek get last night, the further and further away Derek felt now – and the further away Derek felt, the heavier the air seemed, until Stiles was sure he'd pass out any minute. The pizza arrived without him noticing, Jackson picked the movie and Stiles didn't comment, didn't move.

“Stiles?” asked Scott with concern, when everyone was served and seated and ready to watch and Stiles still hadn't budged from the spot he'd stood in upon entrance, breaking Stiles out of his panicky trance.

Derek was finally looking at him and Stiles too-gladly looked back at him – at his soft hair, the cut hips barely hidden under his t-shirt, his sock feet. The only seat left was next to him, and Stiles's heart raced wildly before he blurted out, “ _You look like bad news!_ ” He had just enough time to see the hurt in Derek's pretty eyes and the shocked recognition in Erica's before he fled.

.

Stiles laid awake that night, silently watching the time tick by on his glowing alarm clock and regretting every decision he ever made. Why did he have sex with Derek? No, scratch that – there's no way that, given the opportunity, anyone would be able to _not_ have sex with Derek. Fact. The whole situation was inevitable. Put Stiles into an equation and there was a one hundred percent guarantee that the result would be something unsalvageable.

Stiles rubbed his face unhappily and groaned with true miserable feeling. God, it was three o'clock in the fucking morning and he had school again tomorrow – _today_ , actually. And not just normal school, either, but school with Erica. Erica who apparently was a Taylor Swift fan. Erica who knew Stiles had sex with Derek. Erica who probably told everybody else that Stiles had sex with Derek. _Fuck_ , why did Stiles have sex with Derek?

Stiles turned his gaze up to his ceiling, which was very boring but slightly less stressful than the slowly progressing minutes. Maybe he could convince them it was all a big practical joke? But halfway through developing that into a functional plan, Stiles remembered the look in Derek's eyes when Stiles called him bad news and he was forced to scrap it out of guilt. Or some variant of guilt wherein Stiles kind of desperately didn't want to ever do anything that would hurt Derek's feelings. So Stiles counted sheep instead. Imaginary sheep who eventually grew black wool, pretty green eyes, and fangs.

Around 4:30 (seventy-two wolfy black sheep later), Stiles's phone vibrated across his nightstand. He side-eyed it, wondering suspiciously why in the fuck somebody would be texting him this early in the morning. Supernatural nuisance was the last fucking thing Stiles wanted to deal with right now, so if anybody thought he was going to hop in his jeep and rescue them from Dracula they had another think coming. He deliberately turned away from his phone, and counted some more sheep.

It only took two more sheep for Stiles's phone to vibrate as many more times, and he was forced to concede and at least look to see who was so desperate to contact him before the sun rose on a school day.

It was Derek, and Stiles choked on his own spit before managing to open the first text message, which read: _**you throw your head back laughing like a little kid**_. It seemed kind of like a non-sequitur, but Stiles found himself holding his breath as he moved onto the other two messages.

 _**i think its strange that you think i'm funny cause she never did** _ and then, to Stiles's quiet and over-empathetic horror, _**i've been spending the last eight years thinking all love does is break and burn** _.

Erica must have told Derek what Stiles's outburst was about, and more importantly Derek must have decided he wanted Stiles. Again, that is. Possibly for an extended period? Like as a boyfriend, maybe?

Wait, even more importantly than that – Derek must have listened to a million annoying Taylor Swift songs just to find a lyric that fit how he was feeling. Just for Stiles. Gleefully, Stiles texted back: _**i'll be the prince and you'll be the princess** _. He may or may not have laughed out loud, but that and his probably manic grin was between him and his sheep.

.

Derek met Stiles in the parking lot after school the next day, leaning up against his sexy car in his sexy leather jacket with an incongruously shy looking smile on his face.

“Hey,” says Stiles dumbly.

“Hey,” Derek responds. And then, “ _I'm no one special._ ”

Stiles laughed quietly, kissed his boyfriend softly on the lips, and told him, “ _There ain't nothing about you that don't do something for me._ ”

On Saturday morning, Stiles didn't wake up alone.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Taylor Swift songs referenced:
> 
> 1\. "She's cheer captain and I'm on the bleachers." - You Belong With Me  
> 2\. "I knew you were trouble when you walked in, and now I'm lying on the cold hard ground." - I Knew You Were Trouble  
> 3\. "Why you gotta be so mean?" - Mean  
> 4\. "You look like bad news. (I gotta have you.)" - 22  
> 5\. "You throw your head back, laughing like a little kid. I think it's strange that you think I'm funny 'cause he never did. I've been spending the last eight months thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end." - Begin Again  
> 6\. "I'll be the prince and you'll be the princess. (It's a love story, baby, just say yes.)" - Love Story  
> 7\. "I'm no one special." - Superstar  
> 8\. "There ain't nothing about you that don't do something for me." - Ain't Nothing About You  
> 9\. "Get me with those green eyes, baby." - Sparks Fly
> 
> look me up on [tumblr](http://redblooded-disadvantage.tumblr.com/) for stale meta n fresh memes


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